


Snow Cloaks and Starlight

by fluffymusketeer



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Ereri Secret Santa 2017, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Manga Spoilers, One Shot, Rimming, Seasonal Festivities, Top Eren Yeager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 01:16:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13112820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffymusketeer/pseuds/fluffymusketeer
Summary: Levi and Eren must return to the Forest of Giant Trees as the guests of honour at a winter festival. Manga spoilers up to Ch. 91.Written for Ereri Secret Santa 2017.





	Snow Cloaks and Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Ereri Secret Santa for Natalia! It’s utterly shameless fluff and smut (with a little light angst because, y'know, canonverse), and Levi POV because I love him. Happy holidays, and I hope everyone enjoys! Please do go check out Natalia’s amazing Ereri fanart at [well--i-don’t--know.tumblr.com](https://well--i-dont--know.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you to [sugarplumsenpai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarplumsenpai/pseuds/sugarplumsenpai) and [thisgirlsays22](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thisgirlsays22/pseuds/thisgirlsays22) for beta reading, you guys are the best <3

**Snow Cloaks and Starlight**

 

_What the fuck, Historia?_

Levi pulls up his horse in the snow and stares at the Forest of Giant Trees. Beside him Eren falters, rearing back in his saddle, snowflakes melting on his cheeks and dripping onto his cloak. When the queen had written to them requesting the presence of the two ‘heroes’ of the Survey Corps at her grand winter festival to mark the reopening of Wall Maria’s old leisure forest, Levi is certain neither of them had expected _this_.

Levi had been reluctant to pack up his supplies and return to the walls to come to this blasted function, and now he wants to turn his horse right around and pretend the queen’s invite got lost somewhere between here and the coast. It’s a big island, it _could_ happen—

“It looks like a cake,” Eren says.

Levi stares at the red and gold banners fluttering brilliantly against the snow, the constellations of oil lanterns like fireflies in the trees, the crowds of civilians in fur hats and winter boots, all lured down the main avenue of the Forest of Giant Trees like lambs to the slaughter.

“A giant… cake.”

“Do you want to head back to the inn?” Levi asks hopefully. They could always blame their absence on one of Eren’s episodes.

Eren sighs. “Historia would be upset.”

Levi thinks of the carefully worded missive, how it explained in excruciatingly polite detail that the resettlement of Wall Maria was proving troublesome of late, lack of funding, image problems, etcetera etcetera, and wouldn’t it be _wonderful_ if the queen re-opened the leisure forest, and how _marvellous_ if Captain Levi and Eren Jaeger endorsed the endeavour after all the Survey Corps did—

Levi grimaces. “It does seem like a lot of work went into this,” he admits.

They meet each other’s gazes.

Levi is fully aware they are both avoiding talking about the ghosts of the past; they have been avoiding it the whole journey, a lingering unspoken _something_ hanging in the air between them as they had camped in the open beyond the walls, as they had washed hastily in freezing water at the farm they stayed on, as they ate their meal and shared a pitcher of ale at the inn last night.

He wonders which of them will say the names first. It’s the first time they’ve been back. While the wound is no longer quite so gaping, such sores never really go away, even in the relatively peaceful times.

Lanterns line the route, and they fall in amongst the crowds once they have stabled their horses. Levi senses Eren tense up beside him as they pass the threshold and the looming shadows of the giant trees begin to crowd in overhead. The snow is still falling, their boots crunching through it where it hasn’t been swept clear, and all about folk are blowing into their hands or tucking them further into the folds of their clothes to ward off the bitter winter cold.

“There she is,” Eren murmurs.

Historia is in a candlelit clearing surrounded by attendants, apparently directing the construction of a wooden stage.

“It’s for the common people, of course,” she tells them once introductions have been made. She points beyond the clearing. “Just a light Military Police presence. And since the Garrison are operating outside the walls now, and you guys are days and days away, really it’s important that the people see their heroes once in a while. Especially endorsing a project like this. The consensus in Mitras was that the forest should be turned into a memorial, but restoring it to its former glory is a better way to honour our soldiers’ sacrifices, don’t you think? So having you here, really, it helps a great deal. And, you know, the people really _should_ see their heroes more often. Did I say that already?”

Levi glances at Eren, who says, “We miss you too, Historia.”

She fiddles with the white fur trim of her gown. “I have gifts for you.”

“Optimistic,” Levi says.

“And I was right to be! Will you help me, Eren?”

The pair of them trundle off to fetch whatever ludicrous gifts Historia has thought up. Levi does his best to look unapproachable. They return with two enormous fur-lined cloaks.

“What.”

“Snow cloaks!” Historia says. “Ceremonial ones, of course. I met some citizens from the old northern districts of Wall Maria and it used to be a winter tradition up there, one they're now reviving. Made with wolf skin from the mountains. Look, I even had the wings of freedom embroidered on them.”

“They’re too big,” Levi says.

“That’s the point. They’re for winter.”

“I think they’re very nice,” Eren says.

Levi sends him an unimpressed look. It’s alright for Eren to say, having shot up to a strapping six foot these last few years. Historia looks practically buried under the cloak in her arms, and Levi can’t imagine he’ll fare any better.

Eren removes his standard Survey Corps cloak and slings the ceremonial one round his neck with ease, fastening the ornate clasp and running slender fingers over the material in admiration. With his long hair, he looks almost wild.

“Would you like some help, Captain?” Historia asks. She looks so hopeful.

“Fine,” Levi huffs. “Thank you, Historia.”

“So, you’ll stay for the afternoon, yes?” she asks. Levi ducks his head so she can reach around his shoulders with the cloak. “You should have some food and wine. There are vendors from all over Wall Maria showcasing the rebuilding work. And there is a recital tonight, I chose the programme myself.” Her dainty fingers fiddle with the clasp. “The more investment we can get in Wall Maria as a place of leisure, the better. We’re hoping to reopen the hot springs in the north soon, too.”

“The ones we found the rotting titans in?” Levi wrinkles his nose. “The _live_ rotting titans?”

“Oh my— shush!” Historia glances around furtively. “That’s classified.”

“Since when?”

“Captain,” Eren says. “Stop teasing.”

Levi allows himself a little smirk. Historia blushes a brilliant red and slaps his arm.

She shoos them away after that, instructing them to mingle. Levi is uncomfortably aware they are being shown off like exhibits. “These things are ridiculous,” he huffs, attempting to straighten his cravat beneath the heavy cloak. Several high ranking members of the Military Police are circling ominously, no doubt wondering how soon they can interject themselves and snag his ear. “Hell,” Levi mutters. It’s like being stuck in a decoratively lit pig pen.

“Do you, uh, want to get a drink?” Eren asks, peering around at the myriad of stalls and tents and booths. “Or just go back to the inn until later?”

Levi is about to say _thank you, yes fucking please_ when he is caught by the look in Eren’s eyes. It’s not interested, exactly. More… earnest. Levi realises the answer he was about to give is not the one Eren wishes to hear, though fuck knows why he wants to stick around. Bury some old ghosts, maybe? _Good luck with that, kid_. Eren has been around long enough now to know that the ghosts never really go away.

The distressing sight of Nile Dok marching in their direction in full military regalia with a determined glare on his face makes Levi’s mind up for him. “Drink sounds good,” he says hastily, and grabs Eren’s elbow.

“Wha—?”

“Keep low,” he orders.

To his credit, Eren doesn’t argue. He sticks by Levi’s side and allows himself to be dragged into the crowds milling along the wide avenue of the Forest of Giant Trees. The snow has been swept from the pathways and the lanterns cast a twinkling glow over the red and gold banners of the stalls. They are surrounded by the scent of sizzling meats and roast chestnuts, of mulled wine and cask ales, which – if nothing else – helps to smother the sweat and dirt of the civilians.

Levi snags two glasses of wine from a nearby booth and hands one to Eren, surreptitiously checking the crowds behind them.

“Who are we hiding from?” Eren asks, sipping his wine with a grimace.

“Nile bloody Dok,” Levi replies. “What’s the matter, Eren, you don’t like mulled wine?”

“I’ve never had it before.”

Levi eyes the rich red liquid, fragrant with cinnamon and nutmeg. There was once a time when he had never tasted fine drinks too, and he was a damn sight older than Eren. Glancing around at the common folk enjoying their snowy candlelit festival of fine food and fancy ale, he feels somewhat ashamed that he’d immediately dismissed this whole thing as a waste of money.

Fuck it all, Levi barely even knows how to be an optimist any more. He wonders what Petra and the others would think of him, looking down his nose at Historia’s efforts to banish the sorrows of the past.

Levi takes a sip of his wine. It’s actually rather good.

“Are you alright?” Eren asks.

“Hm?”

"You seem a bit on edge," Eren says. "More than normal."

Levi shrugs. "You know me, Eren. This isn't exactly my sort of thing."

"People having fun?"

"Oi."

The forest has been cleared up since the events of three years ago, and is positively decadent for the festival. Perhaps it is the strange festive spirit hanging over the place that has Eren so intrigued. Levi will admit to it being quite… pretty. Carollers and buskers compete with each other for tips, twanging their fiddles and jingling their bells and la-la-la-ing through festive folk songs. Ribbon-strewn tables are stacked with wooden toys, knitted hats and scarves, homemade pastries wrapped in paper and string, jars and boxes and sacks of local produce beyond count.

There is something highly indulgent about the idea of spending an afternoon wandering through the stalls and booths and eateries, just the two of them. But perhaps they both deserve an afternoon off.

“So.” Levi peers around. “What do you want to do first?”

 

"Eren," Levi says. "Eren, you're doing it wrong."

"Will you just let me concentrate?" Eren mutters.

Levi grimaces. He doesn't know how Eren has roped him into this, but they are standing at some sort of prize booth, and Eren is trying — unsuccessfully — to throw wooden hoops onto hooks.

"Three years of military training, Eren," Levi says.

"Be quiet."

Levi shakes his head and sips his cask ale. The crowd, if anything, has grown since they arrived. The reopening of the Forest of Giant Trees looks to be a resounding success. Would he rather be back at the inn? He's not so sure now.

"Do you want a roast chestnut?" He offers the paper bag to Eren.

" _Levi_ ," Eren whines.

Clunk.

Another wooden hoop drops down into the trough of failed attempts. Levi scowls at the booth attendant, who is no doubt counting how much hard earned military coin he can fleece out of Eren before he finally gives up.

"Do you want me to—"

"I can do it!" Eren snaps.

Levi goes back to his bag of roasted chestnuts. He must remember to congratulate Historia when they see her at the evening's recital. He finds himself oddly proud of her. Which is more than can be said of Eren, who is getting progressively redder as he tries and fails to defeat a fucking wooden hoop game. The attendant is practically rubbing his hands in glee.

"No wonder you can't kill titans for shit," Levi says. "Do you even _have_ eyes, Eren? Are you sure you're not blind?"

"For fuck's sake," Eren mutters.

"In fact," Levi continues breezily, "the past three years would make a lot more sense if you were blind."

"Fine!" Eren turns and thrusts the remaining hoops at his chest. "Fine. If you think you can do any better."

Levi raises an eyebrow.

He passes Eren his roast chestnuts and ale, and makes a show of rolling his cuffs up. This is ridiculous, but in truth it’s nice being silly for a day. They don't often get the chance beyond the walls, not when the military power across the ocean could attack at any time.

"What do I need to do?" he asks.

Eren throws up his hands in disbelief, nearly spilling the ale and roast chestnuts. "You're the one who's been telling me I’m doing it wrong!"

"Hey. Watch my chestnuts."

The attendant walks to the back of the stall, points at the five small hooks sticking out at haphazard angles. "These two for ten points, these two for twenty five, and this one—" he points to the middle hook, the smallest of all "—fifty points."

Levi eyes the two wooden hoops they have left. "And what does fifty points get me?" he enquires.

"A prize," the vendor says.

"And one hundred?"

"A bigger prize."

Levi flexes his arms, then tosses the first hoop onto the fifty point hook. He gives Eren a look.

Eren scowls.

The attendant appears put out, but he dutifully removes the hoop from the hook and gestures for Levi to try again.

"Are you watching, Eren?"

Levi tosses the final hoop.

"It _can't_ be that easy," Eren says.

"Three years of military training, Eren," Levi reminds him. "You had three _whole_ years."

"Alright! Alright."

Eren shakes his head and smiles, and Levi thinks sticking around the festival was a pretty good idea after all. The deep worry lines between Eren's brows have softened and his big eyes are sparkling. He almost looks happy. It's been a long time since Eren looked happy.

"Well." Levi turns back to the attendant. "I hope your prizes are— you have got to be kidding me."

The man looks down at the giant teddy bear he is holding. "One hundred points, right?"

"I'm not carrying that around," Levi says.

The attendant looks at him.

"Collect your damn prize, Eren."

Eren shrugs. "You won it," he points out.

Levi shoots him a murderous glare.

"Or maybe I can give it to Historia!" Eren says hastily, and grabs the bear. It has tufty brown fur, a green bow around its neck, and creepy beady eyes. "Do you want to name it?" Eren asks.

"Do I want to name it."

"Yes! You could call it, um... Titan!"

"You are very strange sometimes."

Eren peeks at him from between the teddy bear's ears. He looks like he's having fun.

Levi rolls his eyes and gestures with his thumb. "Come on, let’s get another drink."

 

They spend the afternoon playing games, snacking on roast chestnuts, and people watching. Levi tries to make Eren smile, and Eren gamely laughs at his crappy jokes. They don’t talk about the past, and they don’t talk about the uncertain future. They don’t talk about the strangeness of strolling idly along the forest’s avenue upon which so many lost their lives three years ago.

As the sun begins to set they head for the eatery, where huge joints of meat are browning over open fires. Trays of butter-coated vegetables and freshly baked bread line the tables, all local produce of Wall Maria. Levi wonders when he last spent a day this pleasantly. The festive spirit is contagious. All around civilians and MPs alike are sharing stories and quaffing drink. He scratches at the back of his neck, frustrated with the itchy, ostentatious cloak.

They pile their plates high with food and head for a table.

“Historia did a good job,” Eren says, ignoring his roast meat and peering around at the oil lamps and knitted snowflakes that decorate the open air eatery. “I hope it works.”

 _Me too_ , Levi thinks. It will be nice to remember this forest as something other than a place of grief, and it’s obvious Eren feels the same. The crisp afternoon fades into a chilly evening. Levi can already hear the orchestra tuning their instruments and the clatter of stagehands getting ready for the Queen’s Recital.

“Hey Eren,” Levi begins, pausing in his meal. “When do you think—”

He is stopped short when a young man wearing Military Police insignia plonks himself down on the bench beside Eren, and places a half-drunk tankard of ale on the table. He looks between the two of them and grins.

Eren stares at their uninvited guest. Levi frowns.

“Hello!” the young man says, a little breathlessly. “Sorry for the interruption. Do you mind if I join you?”

Levi puts his knife down. “And you are…?”

The interloper turns _deliberately_ on the bench to face Eren. “I’m Frederick! Hi.”

Eren looks startled.

Levi feels his jaw drop. Is this—? The fuck? They’re eating! _Oh whatever,_ he thinks dismissively. _This ought to be amusing._ He makes a show of picking his knife back up and pretending to be fascinated with his glazed ham.

“So,” Frederick says. “What do you think of the festival so far?”

“I—uh—”

Levi tries not to smirk.

“I’m helping with policing, but I’m on my break,” Frederick explains. “That’s a nice cloak. So you’re in the Survey Corps?”

 _Riveting stuff_ , Levi thinks.

“Well… yes,” Eren says cautiously.

“Oh, wow! You’re brave, then.”

Levi wants to crack his head against the table. He supposes, if he were to squint, young Frederick isn’t that bad looking. Blond hair, blue eyes, not really in Eren’s league but not bad either. But it’s weird to think about Eren with _anyone_ in that way. He’s been a member of Levi’s squad for over three years now, and more than that, he’s been Levi’s personal charge. Levi doesn’t think about such petty things when it comes to his squad, it would be beneath him.

He surreptitiously sneaks a peek over his glass of mulled wine.

Wait. Is Eren _blushing?_

“So you’re… on leave?” Frederick ventures.

“Sort of.” Eren seems to relax a little. He leans in towards Frederick.

Levi’s eyes widen. Well, that answers a subconscious question Levi didn’t even realise he had asked. He debates whether or not to send young Frederick packing, because as nice as it is to see Eren show an interest in someone, a member of the Military Police is not exactly a _convenient_ someone.

And that is when another one rushes up and grabs Frederick’s shoulder.

“Fred,” the newcomer whispers urgently, and not quietly. “Don’t you know who that is?”

Levi goes rigid at the tone.

“No, what—”

“That’s Eren _Jaeger_.”

Shit. Levi is powerless. He watches in dismay as Frederick’s face twists into a horrified grimace right in front of Eren himself. Eren isn’t stupid; his eyes flash with a combination of anger and mortification, and he looks away.

“O-oh,” Frederick says after an uncomfortably long pause. “Well, gosh. Isn’t that… something.”

Levi wonders whether he’d get in much trouble for stabbing his fork through Frederick’s eyeball.

“Do you really—?” Frederick begins, then seems to think better of it. He stands abruptly, rattling the plates and glasses. “Well, I should get going! It was great meeting you!”

Oof.

Eren just stares, clearly itching to express himself with his fists but knowing he mustn’t, not right here, not in this crowd. Not being who he is.

Frederick and his idiot friend cannot escape quickly enough. Levi could probably still hit the back of their heads with his knife and fork, if he put some effort in. His aim is pretty good.

Eren sighs and returns to his meal. Now _he’s_ the one pretending to be interested in the ham, and Levi can hardly blame him. Poor kid.

He forgets sometimes how isolating being Eren Jaeger must be. He’s used to Eren now, used to their odd little Survey Corps family that has been to hell and back, and it’s easy to forget the rest of the population of Paradis still struggles not to look at Eren like a freak and a monster. No matter what he has done for them, Eren will always be different.

Eren’s crestfallen face tugs at Levi’s heartstrings. Levi finishes his wine in one long swig and wonders if he should say something. Maybe he could shove the bear in Eren’s direction, instruct him to give it a hug, and be done with it? Shit, Eren _looks_ like he needs a hug too.

Or Levi could gut Frederick and offer his innards on a plate to Eren.

Tempting.

“Damn it all,” he mutters. “Hey. Eren. Look at me.”

Eren looks at him, his brain clearly still miles away, dwelling on how he’ll never find anyone to love or some other bullshit.

“Idiots like that,” Levi says, gesturing awkwardly. “They don’t fucking matter.”

Eren blinks at him.

“You want me to go kick their asses?” Levi snaps his fingers for more wine. “Better yet, you turn into a titan and we’ll team up. Make them shit their fancy uniforms or something. Historia’ll forgive us. It’ll be fun.”

Eren is staring at him strangely.

Levi huffs in frustration. “Look, you’re not a bad looking kid, alright? Don’t let assholes like that matter. Someone’ll come along eventually. Fucking hell, how long does it take to get a drink around here?”

After a pause, Eren says, “You think I’m good looking?”

Levi rubs his forehead. Of _course_ that’s what Eren takes from this horrific attempt at comfort. “For a brat who’s overdue a damn haircut, sure,” he mutters. “You’re not so bad.”

“Oh,” Eren says softly.

Levi hopes that will be the end of this particular horror show, but of course Eren isn’t finished there. “You’re not so bad, either,” he says.

“Alright!” Levi gets up, flustered. “Where is that fucking wine?”

He marches off to find it, frustrated with himself. He doesn’t even know _why_ he’s agitated, except that he feels something shifting in his perception of Eren and he’s not comfortable with it.

“Are you okay, Levi?” Eren asks when he sits back down.

 _And that doesn’t help_ , Levi thinks in annoyance.

“I’m fine.” He cuts savagely into his parsnips.

Eren nibbles his food. Levi can _feel_ him staring. “What?” he snaps.

“Do you really think I need a haircut?”

Levi puts his knife and fork down and considers Eren’s hair. It brushes his shoulders in silky tendrils, falls over his face in a dark curtain. It looks otherworldly, especially dusted with snowflakes as it was earlier. When it whips about in the ocean wind, Levi half expects Eren to fly away with it, to vanish over the horizon like he never even existed. In the mornings, when Eren stumbles out of his cabin, it is like watching a dog shaking out its tangled coat. No wonder Mikasa bought him a hairbrush for his birthday. In the winter the soft strands turn a deep brown like the roasted chestnuts they’ve been snacking on all afternoon, or the rich hue of oak bark or damp soil or Sasha’s homemade chocolate cake. Of course it’s too damn long. Levi wants to reach over and ruffle it.

He meets Eren’s gaze briefly. “No,” he says. “You don’t need a haircut.”

“Well good, because I wasn’t planning on getting one.”

“I take it back.”

“Too late,” Eren says, and pops a roast potato in his mouth.

 

By the time moonlight filters down through the forest canopy, the stage is like something out of a storybook, festooned with twinkling candelabra and sprigs of red berry holly. The glow from the candles flickers over the snow-covered bushes and towering trees, and as the orchestra warms up and the stars come out, Levi is finally grateful for his new fur-lined cloak.

They are seated on a wooden dais, which has been draped with crushed red velvet, tucked away behind Historia and her retinue. Seats for the common people of Wall Maria stretch out between them and the stage, and nobles from Wall Sina are seated in the front, in plush chairs.

Historia turns and says, “Did you both have a pleasant afternoon?” She looks a bit nervous.

“It was great,” Eren replies. He holds up his teddy bear for demonstration.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Yes,” he tells the queen. “Couldn’t move for drinks being forced into our hands.”

She bites her lip. “Thank you for coming. Both of you. And for  _staying_.”

Levi shrugs. Eren makes the teddy bear wave at Historia, and she laughs.

“Your Majesty,” one of Historia’s retinue says, and she faces the front, back going stiff.

A string quartet takes the stage. The viola player begins with a sweep of bow across string, a high note pealing out across the hushed open air stage. Levi slumps in his seat. The stars are nice tonight, and he gazes at them surreptitiously through the trees as the string quartet starts a melodious seasonal carol.

Levi reflects upon the afternoon. Despite the awkwardness earlier, he’s glad they both stayed. It has been far too long since either of them got any down time. Eren, especially, needed this. He’s just a kid, forced to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it’s beginning to show.

Levi sneaks a glance out the corner of his eye. The slight flush of alcohol consumption is a better look on Eren than the sallow, stressed young man he has been of late. Far better than him looking like he’s already one foot across the boundary between life and death.

Not that Levi is one to talk, but he’s long been used to looking like shit.

Levi leans over. “How drunk _are_ you, Eren?”

“Hm?” Eren leans closer too. “I’m not.”

“But you had…” He frowns, trying to remember.

“I had three drinks,” Eren says. “You had twice as many, you know. Probably more.”

“You did? I did?”

“Yeah. I kept having to pass mine back.” Levi feels Eren’s gaze roam over the side of his face. “You sure can drink a lot, Captain.”

 _Huh,_ Levi thinks. He'd barely noticed. Alcohol never did affect him much.

One of Historia’s retinue turns around in their chair and casts a look of severe judgement over them both. Levi’s eyebrows rise in amusement. Eren slinks down into his chair.

As they move apart, their hands accidentally bump, cold knuckles against warm. Levi snatches his arm away. He tries to focus on the recital. The cellist seems very good, at least. Eren appears to be bored, shifting restlessly in his wooden chair.

And that is when Levi feels a brush of fingertips over the back of his hand.

He goes still.

It happens again, a barely-there stroke over the sensitive skin, warm fingertips exploring, questioning. Levi’s lips part in astonishment. Is Eren...?

One finger makes its way slowly around Levi’s wrist, wriggles its way under the cuff of Levi’s soft dress shirt, and pauses at his pulse point.

Levi feels himself grow hot with an intense blush.

At this point Eren seems to lose whatever nerve he has summoned for this foray into over-familiarity and withdraws his hand. He sits quietly beside Levi, and Levi is supremely conscious of Eren’s fingers hovering just a few inches from his own, as if in invitation, and he feels utterly frozen in panic.

_What is this?_

Levi stares at the backs of the heads of Historia and her retinue, coiffed and elegant, decorative hair pieces sparkling in the candlelight. It’s dark here in the back row, only the wintry forest behind them, and though these are the prime seats for the queen and her guests of honour, Levi feels as if it might as well be himself and Eren alone in all the world.

Eren is tensing up beside him, no doubt growing mortified by what he has just done. On some vague level, Levi thinks: _serves him right._ Presumptuous brat.

On an entirely different level, Levi’s heart is slamming beneath his ribcage and his skin is tingling and he is about to do something very, very stupid.

He closes his eyes, and then closes the distance between them.

Eren’s sharp intake of breath when Levi’s fingertips skim over the back of his hand sends a shiver down Levi’s spine. _Shit, what am I doing?_ he thinks.

But Eren has already reacted, shifting his hand, and now the backs of their fingers are caught in a hesitant caress. Eren brushes his knuckles over Levi’s, and after a second, Levi returns the pressure.

_Fuck._

Levi is keenly aware of every nervous twitch and shaky breath and tentative touch. His world narrows to the sensation of Eren’s fingers playing with his, of his fingers playing with Eren’s. It feels as if everyone present must be aware of them. If nothing else, the sudden roaring heat in Levi’s body must be obvious. He could melt from it, the growing colour in his cheeks surely a beacon advertising what they are doing, what _he_ is doing.

Eren does the same trick as before, slides his fingtertip around to Levi’s wrist, and strokes there tenderly.

This time, it’s Levi’s breath that is hitching.

Eren skims a fingernail up the middle of his palm—

“Are you enjoying the performance?” Historia asks.

They jump apart, the wooden legs of their chairs scuffing loudly against the velvet. Historia’s eyes widen from where she has turned in her chair to look at them.

Eren splutters, tries to speak, and apparently can’t find any words.

“Yes, it’s very… invigorating,” Levi says.

Historia cocks her head to one side in apparent confusion.

It is then Levi realises the string quartet is playing some sort of mourner’s lament, low discordant notes following each other with agonising slowness like tears down cheeks. He shrugs helplessly.

“You know,” she says, “I chose this one for—”

“Your _Majesty_ ,” the attendant says.

Historia’s pretty face screws up into a scowl. She glances apologetically between them and mouths, _“I’ll tell you later.”_

Levi nods. He daren’t look at Eren. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he does.

He screws his hand into a fist and tries desperately to talk some sense into himself. _What are you doing, Levi? He’s eighteen. What would Erwin—_

He cuts that line of thought off with a grimace. Alright, what would Hange say? Actually, that’s not helpful. What would… what would Mikasa say! Yes, think about Mikasa. _At the very least she’d tell you off._

Levi’s good intentions are thoroughly disrupted when he senses Eren turn towards him. Eren stares at the side of Levi’s head, big eyes boring into his temple, and Levi can feel the challenging glare like a physical thing. He can also feel the spectre of Eren’s caress across his knuckles and wrist.

He’s about to mutter something, anything, to diffuse the tension when Eren stands up. Heads swivel in their direction. The attendant appears ready to explode, and Historia looks nonplussed. Eren offers her a short bow and says, “I’m feeling unwell. Too much wine. Excuse me.” Then he grabs the damn teddy bear, shuffles out of their row, and hops off the dais. The crunching sound of snow beneath heavy boots disappears into the dark woods behind them.

Historia looks at Levi. He shakes his head.

 _Don’t go after him_ , Levi orders himself.

The violins and viola of the string quartet trail off as the cellist takes over the lament, long and slow and bittersweet.

_Don’t go after him._

They’ve had a fun afternoon. It’s _just_ the alcohol talking. It has to be that. There’s no way otherwise— no, Levi can’t continue that train of thought. Who is he kidding? Of course he would want Eren. Eren is beautiful, and Frederick is a moron. But they _can’t_. What the hell does he tell Hange when they get back to the well-established Survey Corps base by the ocean? _“Whoops, it was the wine?”_

Eren is his _subordinate._ And no matter how nice it has been to escape the harshness of the world for an afternoon, for an evening, he can’t let Eren’s teenage hormones and whatever the fuck is going on with himself ruin a good working relationship of nearly four years. A friendship, even.

Levi doesn’t get to keep many of those.

_Don’t. Go. After. Him._

Eren is not the type to hold it against him. It has been left up to Levi. If he doesn’t go, well, things will be awkward, but they will get over it.

But oh. Levi wants to go. He _wants_ to.

 _Don’t_ —

He taps Historia on the shoulder. “I’ll go check on him,” he mutters.

“Of course,” she says. “Do you want me to see if we can find a doctor?”

“No!” Levi hisses. “No.”

“Oh. Well, let me know if you need one!”

That she doesn’t even suspect they are going into the woods for less innocent reasons is somewhat mortifying. He’s not _that_ old. Levi takes steadying breaths as he slides out of the row, past bony knees and grumbling noblemen. He glances at the stage, where the cellist’s notes are soaring amidst the candlelight and holly.

Then he heads after Eren.

 

Levi is prepared for the arm that snakes out and grabs him. He’s not even sure Eren is trying to hide, but if he is, he’s forgotten who he is hiding from. Levi plays along and lets Eren drag him behind a large tree, their boots scuffing in the snow.

Eren pushes him up against the bark with a _thump_. “Oi,” Levi says, softly.

Snow flutters down around them from the branches above. Eren is staring down, the glowing lanterns of the festival reflected in his eyes. Levi peers back through snow-dusted bangs. Long seconds unfold while they stare at each other, gazes roaming over dilated pupils and flushed cheeks and open lips. If Levi were to guess, he’d guess they’re both thinking _are we really doing this?_

Then Eren is leaning in and Levi is reaching up and _yes, yes they are._

When they kiss it is with a delicacy that surprises Levi, trembling and inquisitive. Perhaps it is the cellist’s lament drifting through the snowy forest, those floating notes of mourning and the deep whispers of past sorrows. _Is this okay?_ Levi asks with every uncertain movement. _Yes,_ Eren replies with warm palms squeezing Levi’s shoulders.

Eren could thaw this whole forest with his body heat, and Levi tugs him closer. Eren’s kiss grows confident. He licks into Levi’s mouth, crowds him against the tree. _Fuck_. Kissing Eren Jaeger in the snowy woods has to be one of the most mundane yet exhilaratingly reckless things Levi has ever done.

Eren’s hair is damp with melting snow when Levi reaches up to stroke it. _What am I doing?_ he thinks in a daze. He leans his head against the scratchy bark and stares up at the dark canopy overhead, the faint shimmer of stars beyond, and Eren is mouthing at the underside of his jaw with gentle nips and licks and _noises_. “Shit,” Levi says. “Eren.”

“Shh.” Eren licks his exposed throat. “Stop overthinking it.”

Levi gasps at Eren’s confidence and the warmth of his tongue, the velvet dampness along his adam’s apple as it cools rapidly in the freezing night air. He massages Eren’s scalp and wonders how weird it would be if he just held Eren there all night.

And shit, Eren Jaeger? Really? _Yes, yes, fuck yes._

Levi skims his fingers along the fur of Eren’s cloak, then back up to the silky locks at the nape of his neck. Levi wants to wrap his fist around and use it to steer Eren where he wants him. “Maybe there was something in the wine,” Levi muses.

“Hm?”

Eren looks luminous and sultry, mouth swollen and hair mussed. He’s like some kind of wild creature. Inhuman, beautiful, ethereal. “Definitely something in the wine,” Levi says, and drags Eren’s lips back to his.

The next thing Levi knows, heated palms have gripped the underside of his thighs and he is hoisted up into Eren’s arms. He finds himself slammed against the tree bark like he weighs nothing. Levi wraps his legs around Eren’s waist because damn it all, Eren has grown strong and it’s utterly sinful. Blood rushes to his dick and he can’t get enough, can’t stop kissing Eren.

Eren’s body is hot and firm, pressing him against the tree, keeping out the cold winter forest. _I can’t believe this is happening_ , Levi thinks.

He can feel Eren’s erection swelling against the stretched crotch of his dress trousers, swelling alongside Levi’s own hardening cock, and fuck if it isn’t the most erotic sensation. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and when Eren begins to grind his hips subtly against him, making deep noises of satisfaction, Levi can do nothing but hold him tighter and rut back with helpless arousal.

Levi finally runs out of air and breaks away, head bumping into the tree trunk. Eren’s attention returns to his neck. _Hell yes_. He luxuriates in the feeling of Eren holding him up and thrusting against him, shivers at the sensation of Eren lapping wetly at his throat. The cellist’s lament reaches a zenith, the bowstring notes stretching out through the forest as if they would sink into its mossy depths forever.

“Eren,” Levi murmurs.

“Mm.”

“We should go somewhere else.”

Eren pauses. “Back to the inn?”

“Ye—” Levi stops himself. Shit, the inn is an hour’s ride. It will mean returning to the recital, taking official leave of the queen, no doubt ending up the centre of a whirlwind of Military Police gossip that will surely make its way back to the Survey Corps and—

 _Or we could just go further into the forest_ , a voice whispers in the back of his head.

Eren is watching him carefully. He looks so young, so gorgeous and untouchable. Fuck, is this _really_ happening?

Levi reaches up and brushes soft strands of hair away from Eren’s face. He’s been feeling affection for Eren all day, always has really, but somehow – at some point today – it has exploded into something more, something addictive.

And Levi knows, in the pit of his stomach, that if they leave this forest and return to the inn, the self-doubt will creep in. The nerves, the common sense, the thoughts of looming war and uncertain futures. If he chooses the inn, this is over before it even starts. Levi gazes into Eren’s eyes, and he sees this knowledge reflected back at him. Eren can tell what he’s thinking, and he’s waiting.

“I want you, Levi,” Eren says.

 _Shit_ , Levi thinks. _When was the last time a decision was this easy?_ “You can have me,” he murmurs. “But let’s go further in. Where we won’t be overheard.”

“Are you sure?”

Levi strokes Eren’s hair gently. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Levi says. He shoves Eren off and hops down out of his arms. Starts marching through the snow, away from the candlelit evening ceremony. “Follow me, then. And don’t forget the damn bear.”

 

At some point in their trek through the snowbound forest, Eren stops following Levi and instead takes his hand. Just grabs it, like it’s nothing, and starts tugging him through the forest in earnest. Levi can feel himself blushing like a moron, because here he is wandering through a snowy starlit woodland with his teenage ward as if they’re two lovers out on a stroll instead of, well, Levi and Eren shacking up after possibly too much wine. _Shut up_ , he tells himself. _Stop overthinking it._

Eren finds what he’s looking for and they stumble into a sheltered moonlit clearing. Woody ivy, dense with frozen cobwebs, crawls up the enormous tree trunks. Fresh snow lays in drifts over the tangled roots of the surrounding trees.

“Here,” Eren says. He throws the stuffed bear down haphazardly in the snow and starts unfastening his thick cloak.

Levi rubs his hands together for warmth. They have left the lantern glow of the festival behind, and the sonorous chords of the cello have grown distant. Only the moonlight filters down through the forest, casting deep midnight shadows on the trees. They’re alone this far into the forest, unless there happen to be some pervert deer wandering around.

Eren spreads his cloak beside a fallen tree trunk. “Here should be okay,” he repeats, then his fingers flutter in mid-air, gesturing pointlessly at the cloak and its strategic position beside the fallen tree. “There’s moss on the tree but— well there’s snow beneath and it should be soft. Maybe— are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to go back to the inn instead?” He shifts from foot to foot. “It’s quite cold.”

Levi cocks his head to one side. “You have a fantastic ass, Eren.”

“Um.”

“And I can handle a bit of moss and snow.”

Eren cranes his head round, trying to peer at his own ass, and scratches nervously at the back of his neck. “Alright. Um, thank you.”

 _Stop being so adorable,_ Levi thinks. This is crazy. This is _unbelievably_ crazy. Yet at the same time, Levi has never felt so normal. Sneaking off into the woods with a gorgeous young man to do, well, things? It’s so mundane and human and for once — unexpectedly, amazingly, here in this place of harrowing memories — Levi doesn’t feel as if his heart could claw itself free from his chest with grief, doesn’t feel as though his stomach won’t stop churning with worry. He just feels… horny. Really fucking horny.

Unclasping his ceremonial cloak, Levi says, “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy now, Eren.”

Eren stops his fidgeting. His pectoral muscles rise and fall beneath the crisp dress shirt. Then he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck and meets Levi’s gaze. It’s like he’s preparing for battle, and Levi wants only to smile. Eren always did rise to the challenge.

Levi glances at the conspicuous bulge in Eren’s trousers, the long-limbed elegance of his body, wonders what it will be like to have Eren’s legs wrapped around him while he fucks him open and—  _shit_. Eren is already stepping towards him, grinning goofily, but Levi puts a palm out to halt the proceedings. “Wait,” he says. “Eren, stupid question, I don’t suppose you planned this in advance?”

“Huh? _No_. I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t assume—”

“Shut up. Do you have anything?”

Eren looks baffled.

Levi sighs and steps into the tall curve of Eren’s body, into arms which wrap around his shoulders automatically. “Eren,” Levi murmurs, sliding his hand around to Eren’s ass and gently stroking between two very firm buttocks. “Do you _have_ anything?”

The shudder that runs through Eren’s body is thoroughly satisfying. It’s been a long time since Levi could do that to another human being.

“No,” Eren says.

“Damn it,” Levi replies.

“I could go back to the recital and see if—”

Levi snorts, then coughs to cover it up. “Right. Because _that_ wouldn’t be extremely obvious, you dolt.” He speculatively squeezes Eren’s supple cheeks. “You ever take it up the ass before?”

Eren makes a strangled sound. “Um, er… well I’ve done _stuff_ but, er…”

“So no, then.”

After a pause, Eren sighs deeply. His palms massage Levi’s shoulder blades, warm and apologetic. “I’m sorry, Levi, I didn’t think.”

Levi fights the urge to burrow into Eren’s embrace, then wonders why he is fighting it, and huddles closer. This is in danger of getting sappy, and damn it, Levi is horny. “We could…” He runs a fingernail down the cotton of Eren’s shirt. “It’s been a while, but if you’re okay with it, we could make it work the other way around.” Levi shrugs, feeling awkward. “If you’re okay with doing certain things.”

“Like…?”

“Don’t make me spell it out.”

Eren huffs. Levi _knows_ he is being obtuse, he can hear himself, but damn it, he’s not some kind of a sex god, or whatever delusion Eren is under. He doesn’t do this. He especially doesn’t know how to do _this_ , this unexpected reckless thing they are doing.

But fuck it, he’s enjoying himself way too much to stop. Throwing caution to the wind, he steps back out of Eren’s arms and finishes unbuttoning his cloak. He lays it beside Eren’s in the snow, and he doesn’t stop there. Levi can feel Eren’s gaze burning into his back as he shrugs off his jacket and begins loosening his cravat. “You’d better keep me cosy tonight,” he mutters, gooseflesh already prickling his thighs and biceps.

There’s the crunch of snow beneath Eren’s boots, then fingers overlap his and fumble with the shirt buttons. “Here, let me,” Eren says into the crook of his neck.

Levi’s arms go limp and he lays his head back on Eren’s shoulder. The stars are bright tonight. Button by button, strap by strap, Levi lets Eren divest him of his clothes. He remains pliant, lifting an arm here, a foot there. Eren scorches his back with body heat and the forest chills his front with wintry air.

He hears Eren swallow thickly when he’s finally naked. “Levi,” he says. “You’re so… wow.”

“How eloquent.”

“You’re one to talk.” Eren runs the backs of his fingers across Levi’s abdomen, tracing scar tissue and the hard ridges of muscle.

Levi closes his eyes, feels every flutter straight down in his dick, which is twitching with interest, hard and jutting. He can tell Eren is subtly attempting to work his way towards it. “No,” he says, and plucks Eren’s hand away from his stomach. “You have work to do.”

“Huh?”

Levi bites his lip, feeling inexplicably shy all of a sudden. It really has been a long time. But it’s _Eren_. Levi knows Eren, he can trust him. So he brings Eren’s fore and index finger to his mouth and wraps his lips around them, sucking deep. They taste clean and slightly lemony from the hot towels after their meal, and his nails are trimmed, smooth and practical. Levi swirls his tongue around, putting on a bit of a show because he can feel Eren quivering like a high-strung prey animal behind him. Once he’s thoroughly laved Eren’s fingers, he pulls away, a thin sliver of saliva still dangling. Eren’s breathing goes harsh as Levi guides them down. “Be gentle,” he whispers into Eren’s ear.

“I will,” Eren whispers back.

The first massage of Eren’s fingertips has Levi’s pulse quickening. He adjusts himself clumsily, spreads his legs and stands on tiptoes on the lumpy fur of the ceremonial cloaks to give Eren better access. It’s been a long, long time. “Hmm,” he murmurs, letting Eren’s hand go so he can reach up and play with Eren’s hair. “Yeah,” he says, as Eren begins to wriggle his fingertip in. “Yeah, like that.”

Eren’s left arm is wrapped around Levi’s torso, warming him and possibly holding him upright as Eren works his finger further inside Levi. It’s not uncomfortable, not yet. It feels delicious and decadent and _damn_ it’s been so long. “Do you know what you’re doing down there, Eren?” Levi checks.

“Yes,” Eren says.

“So fucking hur— _oh_.” Levi’s knees go a bit weak as Eren begins to massage Levi’s inner walls, working him gentle and sure, still holding him up as if Eren is so _confident_ Levi won’t be able to stand on his own.

Levi is in heaven.

Eren inches the second finger in. Levi should be cold, he should be freezing, he’s distantly aware that his toes are like ice, but mostly he’s trembling with desire. Eren is just so _hot_ , fucking him open with his fingers.

“Is this what you do?” Eren asks, pumping his fingers in and out, slicking Levi up with his own saliva. “When you’re alone at night? Do you— do you do this, Levi?” Eren’s voice has gone rough and deep. Shit, Levi didn’t even know Eren  _could_ sound like that. It’s so sexy it’s painful.

“You mean do I finger my own ass?” Levi asks, deliberately crude because he’s not going to be outdone by Eren sodding Jaeger. “What do you want to hear Eren? That I fuck myself and think of you? My eighteen year old subordinate?”

Eren moans and begins to twist his fingers around. Levi twitches because, alright, that’s a little raw now. But Eren’s palm is rubbing slow circles on his belly and he breathes and breathes and tries to relax. His cock hangs hard and aching, quivering in the cold night air. Levi’s honestly kind of surprised it’s not retreating in the winter weather, but there it is, hard as hell for Eren.

But Levi can’t lie. “Eren I—” He swallows. “Eren it’s… it’s not that I haven’t thought of you, it’s just… it was never like _that_.”

Eren seems unfazed. Levi can feel him crooking his fingers, searching for Levi’s prostate, though frankly it’ll be a miracle if he finds it at this angle. “And now?” He swipes his tongue up the sensitive side of Levi’s neck, and Levi is pretty sure it’s on purpose. “Will you think of me now, Levi?”

 _I can’t believe this is happening_.

The sound Levi makes is, frankly, embarrassing. Shit, he _hopes_ the worst they have to worry about is being discovered by nosy deer. And to think only a few years ago—

Eren finds his prostate. “Ah! Ah shit, Eren—”

“Will you think of me now, Levi?” Eren asks again. Eren pumps his fingers, massaging. It’s not a great angle but it’s not half bad, either.

Levi’s cock is positively weeping. He writhes, Eren playing his body like that damn cellist played his instrument. Will Levi think of him when he jerks off in future? “Yes,” Levi mutters. “Yes, you brat.”

Suddenly Eren’s fingers slip out of Levi’s ass, and Levi wants to whine at the loss, just as he’d been getting into it. He’s about to snap something demanding, but Eren falls to his knees behind him.

Levi sucks in a breath when Eren smooths his palms over Levi’s cheeks and spreads them apart. “Oh fuck,” he mutters. He feels a heated puff of breath over his aching entrance. The first touch of Eren’s tongue, and Levi can’t, he _can’t_ — he topples forward, hands flying out to steady himself against the moss-hewn tree. Eren grabs roughly at his ass, kneading and massaging and holding him up. “Eren I— _ah!_ ”

Eren’s tongue, hot and wet, swipes lavishly between his cheeks, lapping against his entrance, and then Levi feels that warm tongue nudging in, licking in, and _fuck_ Eren Jaeger is rimming Levi like he’s never wanted to do anything else. Levi arches his back and _keens_ at the stars overhead.

Levi buries his face in the crook of his elbow and juts his ass out, spreads his legs for more. He feels wanton. The mossy bark of the tree smells like wet earth and the strange smoke-scent of deep winter frost. Levi pants against it, tries not to think how many bugs might be hibernating inches from his face. “Eren,” he mumbles. “That feels so good.”

Eren begins to work two fingers back inside Levi, tongue flicking filthily against him. Levi bites down on the soft skin of his arm to avoid crying out. _So decadent_. He’s needed this, he’s _needed_ this. How has he never thought of Eren like this before? How is he only realising how utterly, infuriatingly, blindingly sexy Eren is _now?_

“Hey, Eren.” His breath mists in the cold night air. “You really want to know how I get myself off?”

Eren hums against his ass, still working it with his fingers and tongue, and Levi can feel saliva dripping down between his legs, over his balls. It feels obscene.

He spreads his legs further and blows out a breath. “You know where my bed is?”

“Mmm.”

Levi shivers. Eren has been in his room plenty of times, to bring tea in the evenings or to deliver paperwork or occasionally just seeking company, but now Levi’s imagination is running wild. Eren sprawled on his bed, Eren bent over his desk, Eren spread and begging on his rug. “Well I—” Levi can feel himself blushing “—I kneel. Beside the bed.”

Eren hums again, flexing a palm over the curve of Levi’s hip in encouragement. Levi’s knees threaten to give way when Eren crooks his two twisting fingers and finds Levi’s prostate all over again from a different angle. He massages it purposefully, his tongue warm and wet and mirroring the movement around Levi’s sensitive hole.

“Ah, ah,” Levi pants, undulating. Fuck, if anyone saw this. “I do this, you know. Play with my ass.”

He feels Eren jerk, his fingers faltering.

Levi bites his lip. “It’s the first thing I do. Eren I— _shit_. I like it.”

Eren is making incoherent noises against him, lavishing more and more attention on him. Levi’s gaze wanders over the mossy tree bark in front of him, the dark snowy forest beyond, the moon and the stars and the vast night sky. He wonders if he’ll ever be the same again after tonight.

“But I have to kneel because — _ahh —_  I have to kneel on the floor so I don’t get the sheets dirty.”

Levi wants to badly to reach down a take hold of his cock, but he knows he’ll be coming in about five seconds flat if he does. Instead he just tries to enjoy the intoxicating sensation of Eren stretching him, prepping him, opening him up. He’s vaguely curious as to how Eren got so fucking good at this. _He’s not fifteen anymore,_ he reminds himself. _You don’t know everything about his life._

But Levi’s beginning to think he would like to.

“Then when I’ve… when I’ve fucked myself open I put my hand between my legs and—”

Eren, the little monster, seems to take this as instruction and slides his free hand forward, giving Levi’s balls a tug and a squeeze. Pleasure _lances_ through him at the unexpected rough treatment.

“Fuck!” Levi lurches forward, everything suddenly spiralling out of control. “Shit, Eren stop, I’m gonna—”

Eren tears his face away with a gasp.

Levi groans, hastily reaches a hand down to squeeze the base of his cock. He screws his eyes shut and pants as the edge-of-orgasm sensation retreats.

“Levi,” Eren says, voice deep and rasping and _sexy as hell_. “Levi, I’m going take care of you. From now on, I’m gonna do this to you every night, every day—”

“F-fuck.”

Tender hands inch around his thighs, tug him away from the tree which — at this point — is all that’s holding Levi up. “Come here,” Eren says. “Let go. Let me take care of you.”

Levi lets go.

As he slumps back onto the ceremonial cloaks, which are still remarkably dry considering the snowy ground beneath, he feels Eren’s rock hard cock nudge into his thigh. Levi stretches out his troublesome left leg. His ankle aches like a bastard now. The combination of cold wintry air and stretching to give Eren a better angle — he’s going to pay for this tomorrow.

“Sore?” Eren asks.

Levi huffs and his head lolls back onto Eren’s shoulder. “You’re too fucking observant sometimes.”

“Hm. Are you ready?” Eren squeezes Levi around his middle affectionately. “Was that enough?”

Levi shuffles out of Eren’s arms and turns around. The fresh-fallen snow atop the tree trunk catches his eye, gleaming white and glittering in the moonlight. He considers the frozen snow for a moment, then scoops his fingers through it and reaches for Eren’s straining erection. “Wh-what? Uh, Captain?”

“ _Levi_ , you idiot.”

“Levi, what are you— I won’t— ah!”

Eren’s body goes as taut as the cello’s strings when Levi puts his lips around that swollen cock. He doesn’t waste any time, relaxes his throat and slides his mouth down, slobbering all over him. The snow melts beneath his tongue and Eren’s cock twitches at the hot and cold sensations. It is neither elegant nor skilled, just a mess of salty precome and dribble. Eren jerks desperately and Levi can hear his feet scrabbling at the fur of the cloaks in surprise. Levi sucks a little, massaging the underside of Eren’s shaft with his tongue. Damn it all, he could get used to this.

“Levi!”

That’ll do, he thinks, just as Eren’s incoherent gasps and whimpers are turning into helpless cries. Levi pulls away, leaving Eren’s cock shiny and slippery in the moonlight. _Fucking gorgeous._ He wants Eren to ream him until he forgets his own name. “Okay, now we’re ready,” he says in a rush.

Levi has not gotten on his hands and knees for anyone in a long time, but all he feels now is a thrill of anticipation. Neither of them are going to last but, fuck it… this whole day has been a revelation. He peers over his shoulder as Eren shuffles closer. Their eyes meet and he sees his own emotions reflected back in that deep green gaze.

“C’mon,” Levi says.

Levi gets on his elbows and presses his face to the fur, offers Eren the best position — and view — possible, to make it easier for him. The pressure of Eren’s cock between the cleft of his ass cheeks wrenches a pathetic whine from him. He feels like an animal, rutting back against Eren, desperate to be taken.

He reaches back in encouragement. “It’s alright,” he says. “I won’t break.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Eren says.

“Tch.” Levi rolls his eyes. “Just fuck me already, moron. I’ve got my ass out in the middle of winter for you.”

“Yes.” Eren’s voice goes deep and throaty again. “You have.” He begins to push in, stroking Levi’s lower back soothingly. “You look so good right now.”

Levi does his best to control his muscles, tries to enjoy the sensation. His hand is still reaching back, scrabbling uselessly against Eren’s thigh. If his arm was just a bit longer he’d be yanking him forwards. As it is, Eren goes slow. Levi feels his swollen, well-rimmed hole flex and relax as the head of Eren’s cock nudges in, then out, then in, slowly stretching him. “Eren,” he begs. “Eren, please.”

“Levi,” Eren says. “I’m trying to—”

“Just fuck me, Eren!” Levi cries out. “Damn it, please! Fuck me!”

“Oh fuck, _fuck_.”

Strong hands grip Levi’s hips and drag him backwards, and Levi goes willingly, rocking back firmly onto Eren’s cock. It’s a tight fit, it’s not as comfortable as it would be if they were slathered with oil, but as Eren bottoms out, his thighs flat against Levi’s, all Levi can think is _so good._ “I’m not gonna last,” he warns.

“Me neither,” Eren moans.

“Fuck me hard, Eren.”

“Yes _sir_.”

Eren places his palm in the small of Levi’s back. _Shit, is he holding me down?_ Levi bites his hand as Eren pulls out, slowly, and then snaps his hips forwards, thrusting Levi face first into the cloak. He does it again, and again. All the saliva has made them wet and slippery and despite the burn Levi can feel his pleasure spiking already.

Eren grips his shoulders and pulls him upright.

“Wha—?” Levi nearly topples over, unexpectedly off balance. He finds himself kneeling back on his haunches, ass in Eren’s lap, Eren’s sweaty chest against his back.

He stares up at the stars in a daze. _Nice move._

Eren pumps his hips. Levi can do little in this position but flex his thighs and try not to pitch forwards. He winds one hand into Eren’s hair, the other touching the ground for balance. Damn, this feels amazing— “There. Right there.”

Eren thrusts against his prostate in a deep, grinding movement that has Levi seeing stars behind his eyelids as well as in the night sky. Levi can feel his own precome weeping down over his balls. He’s so wet and desperate.

“Shit,” he pants. “ _Shit_.” He needs—

It’s as if Eren reads his mind, because a fist wraps around his throbbing cock. “Come on Levi,” Eren says.

 _Yes, yes_.

Eren jerks him off in earnest, hot and twisting, palm slick with precome. “Come on, come _on_.”

Heat blossoms in Levi’s chest, rushes to his cock. “Eren, fuck I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” Eren murmurs. “Captain.”

It does the trick. Levi comes _hard_. “F-fuck!” He yells to the sky, shuddering with the sheer strength of his orgasm. Thick ribbons of seed spill out over Eren’s hand. Eren is moaning in his ear, his whole body quaking as he too reaches his peak. Levi can feel himself being filled up, and _fuck_ it’s amazing.

They’re both gasping in each other’s arms as they come down. For long seconds Levi can do nothing but tremble and twitch, tremors of pleasure still flooding through him. Levi’s heart feels like it could tumble from his ribcage and burst into nothing but heat and passion on the ceremonial cloaks.

“ _Levi_.” Eren sounds broken.

“Kiss me,” Levi gasps, twisting his head.

Eren practically lurches them both off balance as he kisses Levi deep and desperate, like he never wants to stop. Levi kisses back, their tongues twisting together frantically. He never wants to catch his breath, never wants to stop kissing _Eren_. He feels tears prickling at his eyes and he doesn’t know why, except they’re something to do with his madly pounding heart and the utterly intoxicating sensation of needing more, more, of needing to climb inside Eren and never let go.

The extended passion can’t last forever though. The kiss slowly flickers out like a dying flame and they cling to each other, boneless, breaths misting in the cold air.

As the arousal drains out of his body, and Eren’s cock softens inside him, Levi becomes aware of just how _cold_ it is. The rapidly cooling semen all over his dick and thighs isn’t helping. _Disgusting._ “Eren,” he murmurs, still dazed. “It’s fucking _freezing_.”

Eren slips out of him, grabs a corner of the cloak, and helps to wipe him down. Levi rests his head on Eren’s shoulder.

“We should get dressed,” Eren whispers, voice low.

“Can’t you just pull one of the cloaks over?”

“Alright.”

They sandwich themselves between the two ceremonial cloaks. Levi hums in appreciation as Eren curls his warm body around him, twines their legs together and lets Levi use his bicep as a pillow. He drags Eren’s arm around his waist and plays with his fingers.

“Well, I think we thoroughly corrupted the bear,” Levi mutters through a yawn. The teddy bear lays cast aside and forgotten in the snow, its green bow going dark with damp.

Eren chuckles softly in his ear. “I’m not sure the cloaks survived either.”

“Mm.” Levi begins mentally rifling through long-discarded cleaning tips, wonders if he’s come across some old wives’ remedy for getting semen out of fur at any point.

Eren shifts behind him. Levi rolls and drapes an arm over Eren’s chest. He examines Eren in the moonlight, his still-dilated pupils reflecting the stars, strands of hair falling over his face.

“What?” Eren asks. He seems dozy and sated.

Levi likes to see Eren at ease like this. It’s so rare. “My nose is freezing,” he informs him.

“You look adorable,” Eren replies.

“What the— fuck _off_.”

Eren covers a yawn with his wrist and seems content to play with the soft stubble of Levi’s undercut.

Levi can’t resist returning the gesture, flicking the long hair from Eren’s cheeks. “Besides, you’re no better. Look at all this,” he says. “Ridiculous.”

 _This is sappy as shit,_ Levi thinks.

They stay like that, and Levi learns Eren anew with gentle fingertips. Eren watches him with a dopey smile, a smile that warms Levi from the inside out. Eren’s fingers never leave his hair, and if Levi were a cat he’d be purring.

 

“Sometimes I see their faces,” Eren says after a while. “In my dreams.”

“Oh?”

Eren gives him no further explanation, unwilling or simply unable to say more. Levi inches closer, puts his head on Eren’s shoulder, and points up. “See those four stars?”

“Which ones?”

“There.” Levi grabs Eren’s wrist and points them out.

“Yes?”

“That’s Oluo’s stupid creased cravat,” Levi says.

“Huh?”

Levi rolls his eyes. Moves Eren’s hand again. “And there, there, and there… that’s his face.”

He can feel Eren craning his neck and staring down at him. Levi’s cheeks heat but he keeps his eyes firmly trained on the stars through the gap in the trees. He wishes they had the whole night sky like they do at the ocean.

“That’s Oluo? In the stars?” Eren asks tentatively. “Are there… others?”

“Yes. I’ll show you when we get back to the coast, if you want.” Levi shrugs awkwardly. “Can’t really see them from here. That’s the top of Erwin’s head just over to the right though.”

Eren is quiet for a moment, considering. Then he says, “In the stars is better than in my dreams.”

Levi nods. He likes to think so. _Can you help, old friend?_ he asks Erwin’s twinkling head, words he would never speak aloud. _I know this is a terrible world, but can I keep one person?_

_I want to keep Eren._

Levi can only blame their post-orgasmic sluggishness for what happens next. He hears the crunch of snow far too late, and there is barely time to check he and Eren are suitably covered before someone steps into the clearing.

“I knew it!” Historia points her finger at them accusingly. “Do you have any idea how much those cloaks cost?”

“Uh,” Eren says.

“Impressive,” Levi tells her.

“Thank you, Captain. You can take the girl out of the Survey Corps— oh! Look at what you’ve done.” Historia rescues the teddy bear and sits down primly on the fallen tree trunk. “Don’t worry, I’m alone. Well, I slipped my attendant temporarily, so you’d better get dressed.”

“Uh,” Eren repeats.

Levi props himself up on his elbows and attempts a stern look at Historia. As stern as he can be whilst naked, anyway. “This isn’t something we want repeated,” he says.

She nods. “Of course not.”

“I’m _not_ being the newest gossip on the Mitras social scene. Nor is Eren.”

“Well I wouldn’t mind that asshole Frederick knowing—”

“Eren, shut up.”

“Very well,” Historia says. “You have my word. But you should know I intend to blackmail you into helping me open the hot springs. There may even be ribbon cutting.”

She eyes them triumphantly. Levi rolls his eyes and reaches for the tangled pile of pressed trousers and dress shirts, now wrinkled beyond repair. “Never should have made you queen,” he grumbles.

Eren seems to have few qualms shuffling into his clothes in front of Historia, who politely turns around and busies herself brushing the snow off the teddy bear. Levi never went through the baptism of fire of the cadet barracks, and consequently traipses off behind a tree to dress, shivering in one of the ceremonial cloaks.

When he emerges, Eren has taken a seat on the tree trunk beside Historia. He bites his lip and gives Levi an unsubtle once over. Levi feels it in the pit of his stomach, and concludes they won’t be getting much sleep at the inn tonight.

He joins them both and, after a moment’s hesitation, steps into Eren’s arms.

“It’s nice to see you both like this,” Historia says. She sounds melancholy.

"What, naked?" Levi says.

"No,  _happy_."

Eren squeezes him tighter, and Levi is thankful for the shadows of the night to hide the colour in his cheeks. “Fucking hell,” he mutters. “C’mon, you two, let’s get out of here before this gets even more awkward.”

Eren offers Historia his arm as they leave the clearing, and uses his other arm to carry the two cloaks. Levi ignores the ache in his ankle and follows, feeling helplessly fond and ridiculous. He’s so busy admiring Eren’s ass that he almost misses Historia’s words. “It’s tucked away down a side street, but it’s _very_ upmarket, all the nobles go there,” she is saying to Eren. “Apparently their butt plugs are the best in Mitras! Or… so I’ve heard.”

Eren turns to look at him, wide-eyed.

“What the _fuck_ , Historia?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And happy birthday, Heichou ;)


End file.
